Week Ending 2/6/26

"Every laugh has purpose within a relationship, lesson, impulse, or revelation. It’s not about Jamie finding all the answers. It’s about finally understanding what questions to ask."

– Full thoughts at jaredmobarak.com

"The film is therefore also about second chances. It leads to many dramatic moments that lean into their messiness because that’s life. Happiness isn’t a choice. It’s the result of hard work."

– Full thoughts at jaredmobarak.com

"That’s the undeniable strength of the storytelling in Josephine. Its ability to keep us as on edge as Damien and Claire. Because no one knows how Josephine will respond—what she will say or do before earning a response that teaches her it wasn’t correct."

– Full thoughts at jaredmobarak.com

"Maybe you won’t vibe with how its delivered via a slow-moving ghost thriller marked by bursts of monster gore, but you must appreciate the historical significance of its overall messaging."

– Full thoughts at jaredmobarak.com

"The real meat is giving [the kids] the room to figure out their place in this nightmare they were born into. How they respond, rebel, and evolve to take back control of their own narrative is inspiring and necessary."

– Full thoughts at jaredmobarak.com

"It’s as much a wish as a prophecy and the spontaneity of that uncertainty is the point. While its empathetic performances and authentic mystique are undeniable, your enjoyment of the finished product will surely vary."

– Full thoughts at jaredmobarak.com

Despite sanctions, corruption, and widespread poverty, everyone in Iraq must still celebrate Saddam Hussein's birthday. Young Saeed (Sajad Mohamad Qasem) jokes about whether the president actually eats all the cakes mandated to be baked. His classmate Lamia (Baneen Ahmed Nayyef) prays to not get picked by her teacher to bake one. Because ability and finances do not matter. Refuse to comply with the order and you might be dragged in the street.

Hasan Hadi paints the horrifically sobering experience of growing up under Saddam's rule through The President's Cake. It's not just an adventure wherein two third graders search the city for ingredients to barter for, be gifted, or steal. It's a tale of survival at an age where you shouldn't need to worry about corporal punishment let alone starvation at the hands of your government or the threat of being bombed at the scream of American fighter jets above.

We're talking one hundred minutes of pure desperation, exploitation, sexual abuse, indoctrination, and authority overreach. These kids might not fully understand the scope of what's happening around them, but we certainly do. Thankfully, there's at least one compassionate soul willing to help, but willingness isn't always enough against such long odds. And even if fate allows Lamia to deliver her cake, it only guarantees another second of uncertainty.

The whole flirts with a descent into miserablism as each prayer receives silence at best and a monkey's paw curl at worst, but there's enough optimism and hope courtesy of Lamia and Saeed's innocence (as well as their rooster companion) to get us through. Yes, that innocence is ultimately lost bit by bit from the first frame, but they never quite give up on each other even when frustrations run high. Every hard-won breath taken becomes an involuntary act of defiance.

7/10

As a story taken at face-value, Mamoru Hosoda's Scarlet is extremely naïve. As a parable seeking a path forward for humanity that embraces empathy above power, it excels. The question is whether you're willing to look past the former to appreciate the latter. No, "willingness" isn't right. It's about whether it's even possible considering the world outside our windows has proven that we can only hope to aspire towards a utopian life if justice does get served.

That's the rub with sentiments meant to inspire audiences that already know they're empty. The liberal ideal to not descend to an opponent's level because grace will teach them to repent. It won't. It will instead embolden them time to perfect their depravity and ensure their next stint on the throne will never end. Give Hosoda credit for understanding this point, but his fantastical work around isn't a viable alternative in the real world.

So, take this epic with a grain of salt. I applaud Hosoda's desire to heal rather than harm, but Claudius probably isn't the literary figure for that pursuit. How he brings it to life is gorgeous, though. Like if Hamlet were Silvie in "Loki" with Mobius teaching her it's okay to let go of the angry vengeance in her heart while trying to escape The Void, survive Alioth, and punish those who put her there via stellar animation, brilliant time overlaps, and a prevailing sense of hope.

It's just unfortunate that the only true way to stop war is to kill those who yearn for it without becoming one of them in the process. In other words: don't expect the senseless violence to ever go away. As history has shown, when someone does what Scarlet aspires to do, they don't survive very long. Just look at her dad.

7/10

What starts as a father's (Sergi López's Luis) search for his missing daughter in the Moroccan desert quickly devolves into an existential crisis of identity as he finds himself lost on a journey with no true destination. It's therefore fascinating when Luis' young son (Bruno Núñez Arjona's Esteban) admits his sister didn't run away. She was simply an adult who decided to leave. So, in many ways, this hunt becomes less about Luis finding someone and more about him letting go.

Not from responsibility or desire, but a deteriorating world from which he can no longer protect his children. Director Oliver Laxe and co-writer Santiago Fillol ultimately introduce a WWIII-level event off-screen to push their characters into the furthest fringes of society—an arduous path towards either oblivion, salvation, or ... both. Because the most intriguing piece of the whole is that death might be an escape from having to see what comes next.

So, rather than answers, Sirāt provides struggle. And through that struggle it creates room for empathy in a way that reminds us of what's possible outside the cruelty of capitalistic self-interest. It's why Laxe needed to find genuine non-actors to embody the pain, freedom, and hope of the ravers who take Luis and Esteban under wing. Stefania Gadda, Joshua Liam Herderson, Richard 'Bigui' Bellamy, Tonin Janvier, and Jade Oukid are absolutely sensational.

As the opening text explains, the title describes a bridge over Hell in Islamic eschatology that everyone must cross to find Paradise. The violence outside our window is the fire and brimstone and our unceremonious exit, while horrific for those left to watch, is our potential reward. Laxe pulls no punches portraying our lives as the kick to the teeth they often are. A torturous wasteland made bearable by the found families with whom we choose to walk through it.

7/10